Harry Potter and the Prophecy's End
by Gryffonfanwriter
Summary: Spolier Alert PostHBP, no relation to my other story. The magical world reacts to the events in HBP. A better summary will be forthcoming, once HBP has been out for a while, don't want to divulge plot in the summary...


Prologue – Where do we go now?

Minerva McGonagall, acting Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, silently wiped away the tears from her eyes that seemed to be ever present. The magical world was in utter chaos with the death of Albus Dumbledore at the hands of the traitorous Severus Snape, and McGonagall knew that there were those in the magical world that would look to her for some guidance. Perhaps not many, certainly not enough, but she recognized the need to take the first steps toward establishing some calm. Tonight she had set aside the time necessary to get some information. Twiddling idly with a letter she had just received, she knew it was going to be a long night for her.

The Ministry of Magic had promised a thorough investigation into the events that led to Dumbledore's death, and the price on Severus's head was set at half a million galleons. The Dark Lord was the only individual worth more, dead or alive (but preferably dead), to the brave or foolhardy individual who could bring the foul wizards to justice.

'_I cannot believe this,'_ she thought to herself as she sat despondently in her dear friend's former office. _'Albus Dumbledore killed by his pet project of over a decade. Were it not so devastating, I would think it highly ironic. But to believe that Severus was such a duplicitous man is overwhelming. How could he have fooled Albus so completely? It defies logic. Only Potter seemed to see through the façade, and we should be ashamed of ourselves for ignoring his unease.'_

Looking around the office at the portraits of former Heads of the school, McGonagall looked sadly at the newest portrait, that of the most recent Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. The painting had appeared the night that the great wizard died—murdered—and the man in the portrait had been sleeping (or feigning sleep) since then. When the portrait had been painted, and what memories it contained, were unknown to McGonagall, and she hadn't had the time to investigate the matter yet.

The Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, had approached her after his obviously unpleasant conversation with Harry Potter following the funeral for Dumbledore. The Minister was seething, McGonagall recalled with a smirk, and peremptorily demanded to speak with her, privately.

McGonagall had been consoling Professor Sprout who could not stop weeping at the loss of Dumbledore and very obviously needed more consolation. But McGonagall knew that duty called, so she gently disentangled Sprout's arms from around her torso and motioned to tiny Professor Flitwick to provide comfort to his colleague. Flitwick quickly complied and led the Herbology professor a good distance away where she could talk with some of her students, past and present, to try to get her mind off the terrible events that led to Dumbledore's death.

"Yes Minister," McGonagall asked after casting a quick privacy charm around the two of them. "How may I be of assistance?"

Scrimgeour scowled again and looked sharply at the Transfiguration professor and Deputy Headmistress. "Until we can determine if Hogwarts is to be closed, or who will be the new Headmaster, I have asked the Board of Governors to make you the Acting Headmistress. Your authority will be circumscribed, naturally, until we determine what exactly Dumbledore has been doing that allowed a Death Eater to pose as a teacher for 15 years. But we need someone to send the students home and prepare for the upcoming school year, in case we decide to allow it to happen."

"What exactly do you mean by 'allow it to happen' Minister?" McGonagall asked in clipped tones. "Hogwarts has operated quite well for a thousand years. I see no need to change that now."

"Yes, well two years ago a student lost his life and as far as I recall this is the first time that the Headmaster of the school has ever been murdered by one of his own staff," Scrimgeour replied coldly. "There have been obvious lapses here for far too long, and I mean to see that this school provide a safe haven, or be closed permanently."

"And where would the children learn their skills, Minister?" McGonagall asked, her nostrils flaring. "I agree that Albus made errors, certainly it appears that he should never have trusted Severus, but life must go on. How can we defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named if we cower in fear and fail to teach those who would fight against his sycophants?"

"You would rely on mere children to win this war Minerva? I would have thought you willing to protect them at any cost."

"Minister, we've seen what protection can lead to. Snape and Malfoy are but two examples of that foolhardy notion. No, we must prepare those students willing to stand with us, students like Potter, Granger, and Weasley. They have fought off more than most twice their age, and—"

"And still we lost the only wizard that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named feared, at the hands of his own teacher. And don't tell me that Potter is the 'Chosen One' when he won't agree to even work with the Ministry," Scrimgeour snapped angrily. "I'm not a fool like Fudge, or a power-hungry toad like Umbridge. I mean to win this war and destroy the enemy. Whatever the cost."

"Minister," McGonagall said with a sigh as she weighed his words and intent. "We are not opponents. I recognize the threat. Having lived through too many Dark Lords in my life, I see that this one is the worst. Before we launch ourselves into a feud, let me say that I will agree to be Headmistress-"

"_Acting!_" interrupted the Minister. "Acting Headmistress, my good woman."

"Minister, I believe that you heard me quite clearly," McGonagall said crisply. "I would be more than willing to be named Headmistress. I will concede that if the Board of Governors decides to replace me in the future, I would have no control over that. But Hogwarts can not operate without a fully recognized Head. Hogwarts _will not_ accept anything less."

"Professor McGonagall, you are overstepping my generosity and childhood fondness for you as one of my favorite teachers."

"And you, Rufus, are forgetting your lessons as a student in my care. If you had ever bothered to read _Hogwarts: A History--_ as you were expected to have done--you would recall that the security of the spells and enchantments that secure the grounds of Hogwarts are contingent on there being a fully sanctioned Head, approved by the Board of Governors. When a Head steps down, or dies in office, the Board has two weeks to replace the Head. That has never failed to happen, in over a thousand years, and it must not be allowed to happen now."

"Surely you can't believe that to be true, can you McGonagall? Isn't that just an old witches tale?" the Minister asked with scorn.

"Do we dare take that chance? Especially now, with Albus dead, I'm sure that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named covets the school like nothing before. The wards and protections are not inviolable, nor are they permanent, but they are the strongest in our world. The relationship between the Head and the school is a magical connection, one that strengthens both and renews both. Without that connection, the school will surely fall apart, and with it the most important symbol of our world will cease to stand against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

"So have the Governors appoint me, or someone else if you must, but act now. Let me know of your decision, Minister. Good day." With a flick of her wand McGonagall released the privacy spell and gracefully stormed away from the manipulative Minister. The Minister stood stock-still, pondering the absurdity of her claims. As McGonagall got further away she heard the Minister call young Percy Weasley over to him, asking for a copy of _Hogwarts: A History_.

Shaking her head to clear that memory from her mind, she grimaced at the letter that she had recently opened.

Dear Professor Minerva McGonagall:

The Board of Governors has met in an emergency session regarding the death of Albus Dumbledore and the subsequent vacancy of his position as Headmaster of the school. The Board is gravely concerned about the events of the past school year and is planning on conducting a thorough investigation of the school, faculty, and students.

Widespread reports of odd behavior by the students, a history of inappropriate decisions regarding the teaching staff, and the death of a student and now the Headmaster call into question the latitude granted to the Headmaster over the past decade. In light of these troubled times it is our duty, our obligation to take a firm hand in the oversight of the school.

However, most importantly, we must comply with the conditions laid upon us over the centuries regarding the position of Head of Hogwarts. As you know the school cannot go without a Head. The Board of Governors has agreed, unanimously, to entrust you with that position at this time. Congratulations, we presume, are in order.

Be forewarned that the same authority that the Board has in granting you this position gives us the ability, and requirement, to remove you from this position if we deem it necessary. As we said, we will not fail to provide better oversight of the school in the future, and we look forward to working closely with you to ensure the safety of our students, and to continue the traditions of Hogwarts into the future.

Sincerely,

Each member of the Board of Governors had signed the letter with a flourish, and McGonagall looked at each signature with flashes of pain. She knew the script of each of these individuals, having taught them at some point in time when they took her classes. She remembered the moment when each of these students sat on the stool during the Sorting Ceremony and were placed in their Houses. Every Gryffindor took a special place in her heart, of course, but even the Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Slytherins on the list were special to her, as only a teacher can understand. Their performance on exams, notable essays, detentions, and Quidditch successes bubbled forth as she scanned the names, tears forming in her eyes as she contemplated what was meant by this letter. Albus was dead, that she had accepted immediately, but this letter was the final confirmation that he was, in fact, gone from Hogwarts. A distinction without meaning, perhaps, but a distinction that stood out in her mind as significant for whatever reason.

McGonagall, despite her stern appearance, was a worrier at heart. She worried about all her students (and she fiercely considered every Hogwarts students to be hers, like a protective mother cat) and watched all of the young children with a fierce maternal pride as they grew during their time at Hogwarts. When it came time for them to step out into the world she knew she could never keep track of all of the witches and wizards she had taught as they advanced in their careers, but she had a unique ability to remember what they did while they were at her school. Wiping her eyes, and taking a deep breath, she calmly placed the letter down on Albus' desk—her desk soon, and looked out the window to the school grounds.

A voice coughed behind her.

Startled, McGonagall whipped around with her wand quickly in hand to see that the office was empty. With a curious frown she looked at the portraits, all of whom were nonchalantly avoiding her gaze, but all were clearly aware of the examination she was giving them. All portraits save that of Albus Dumbledore. When she looked at that portrait, she saw that he had finally woken up and her mentor, her friend, looked piercingly into her eyes.

"Salutations," he said gravely. "I am relieved to see you in this office on this night Minerva."

"Albus," she replied with a catch in her throat, tears threatening to overwhelm her at the familiarity in his voice. "I am most definitely _not _pleased to see you, not in this situation. Dead! You're dead Albus, when we need you the most. And killed by that foul, traitorous—"

"Minerva!" thundered the authoritative voice of Albus Dumbledore. "There are more important things to discuss at the moment than mundane matters such as the circumstances of my death. I'm quite confident I know more about the details of my death than you could even speculate. But that is not of the moment. We must invoke a millennia old enchantment immediately so that you can take charge of the school."

"What do you mean?" she asked through gritted teeth. McGonagall never liked being yelled at, especially by a portrait. Memories of being lectured by the Fat Lady as a school girl out past curfew flooded through her mind as her cheeks turned bright red.

"Each Head has gone through the same process to transfer leadership of the school. It is an unbroken chain since the Founders left the school, and we must not break it now. Trust me and more will become clear when we are finished."

The other portraits in the office nodded their heads in agreement, encouraging McGonagall to comply with Dumbledore's wishes. McGonagall knew that she would need to comply, but she was furious with her friend's portrait for interrupting her.

"Albus, you must understand this is all a great shock. You were murdered in cold blood, the Ministry is threatening to shut down the school, and our world is cowering in fear with news of your defeat. I'm scared, we all are, that He-Who-"

"Call him Tom if you must," interrupted Dumbledore more gently. "I'm aware of the situation, Minerva. I infused this portrait on the day of my death, which was not a surprise to me, whatever you may think. I am sorry for your grief, but you must understand that my death, while possibly avoidable, was not unnecessary. It will serve a purpose before all this is through.

"But it also suggests that we must make haste. As Headmistress of Hogwarts, you will secure the safety of the school, which I daresay is more important now than ever, and it will give you certain insights that are necessary if you are to help Harry complete his goal. So let us begin."

It was easily the most complex magic Minerva McGonagall had ever invoked in her long life. More complex than the Patronus Charm, more intimate than the process of being an Animagus, more draining than hours in battle, and yet it was remarkably simple. Carefully following Dumbledore's instructions, McGonagall triggered the ancient reservoirs of power that supported the school and became one with the magic of Hogwarts.

It had to have been mere minutes, but it felt like hours as her awareness floated in the torrent of power that was Hogwarts. It was an indescribable feeling that washed over her, like waves crashing against the cliffs of Dover. She felt pummeled by the awesome power of the ancient school as it linked itself to her aura, accepting her position as Headmistress and opening itself to her awareness.

Overwhelmed by the power she had experienced in those moments, McGonagall slumped into the chair behind her desk and willed herself to relax and catch her breath. As her mind roiled at the experience, she turned to look at the portrait of her predecessor.

"Albus, you have a hell of a lot to explain. I'd suggest you start immediately," she said with an authoritative growl.

Dumbledore's portrait chuckled, his eyes twinkling fiercely at his close confidant and friend. "Of course Minerva, or I guess that I should Headmistress. As you so often have said to our new students, 'Welcome to Hogwarts.'"

--XXX—

Author's Note –

This is obviously a new story, taking place after the events of Half Blood Prince.

I am putting 'Path to War' on hold for now as I try to sort out my thoughts and feelings about HBP and see what I want to do, but the best way for me to do that is write and see what happens. I may update this story, I may update 'Path to War' as I sort through things and figure out where to go.

Other fan fic authors, vastly superior to me, are struggling as well as to what to do from what I glean in the chats and other places. JKR in the first 5 books created a pretty compelling world in which to play, and HBP has to impact the fan fic world. So I will update, erratically I am sure, one of these two stories (or both) as I sort out where my muses take me. I hope you enjoy wherever it is that I go as we all start the new countdown to book seven.


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